Give In To The Night
by Kos-Mos607
Summary: AU, post Prince Caspian movie- What if the White Witch wasn't the only ancient power summoned in the How? SLASH! Caspian/Glozelle, Caspian/Peter, Caspian/oc, Peter/oc
1. Chapter 1

Ok, confession time, to this day I have NEVER picked up a Narnia book. If I mix up any details up or do something wrong please forgive me. This is based off the Prince Caspian movie and I'm completely winging Caspian's age (I'm guessing around 16 our 17). Also, I'm trying out a pairing that I haven't yet seen in this fandom simply because I have a soft spot for underappreciated characters like Glozelle and I figured I'd give the poor guy his honor (and his balls) back. This will contain 'underage' because as I stated above, Caspian is probably around 16 or 17 and Glozelle is about 30 (it's hard to tell with the handsome Italians these days lol) If you don't like that king of stuff, hit the "Back" button on your computer. There will be 'adult scenes' in here because I hardly write anything else and there's also **minor** 'Non Con' scenes but for those of you who have never read my fics before rest assured I never do anything extreme or write graphic details. I do not believe in turning that topic into smut.

Now that I'm done talking, enjoy! And remember, if any of this wiggles you out, LEAVE! Flamers will be exploited without mercy Mwhahaha….

**Chapter 1 (Prologue)**

Peter cursed silently as he used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the tears from his cheek. They had been threatening to fall ever since he'd returned to Aslan's How from Miraz's castle and it took all his willpower to keep them from showing until he managed to sneak away into one of the many tunnels and away from sight. The Narnians were already demoralized enough as it was, they didn't need to see their King in tears, sobbing like a twelve year old. Even though he knew no one on the ranks would blame him, the loss was hard on all of them.

The blond bit his lower lip in anger as he felt his eyes water once again. The images of the Narnians staring at him through the gate and their frightened voices calling out to him would forever haunt him; he could feel it deep down inside of his chest. If Caspian would have awoken his uncle and set off the alarm, all of them would still be alive. As if that deed alone wasn't horrible enough, Caspian had even considered calling upon the White Witch for aid. If he knew the stories so well then wouldn't he have known how dangerous she was and what restoring her to Narnia would mean? Wasn't it bad enough that Caspian's foolishness cost half of the Narnian Army their lives?

Peter hung his head on his knee and sniffed. His eyes burned and his chest felt three sizes too tight, but somewhere in the back of his mind he felt somewhat relieved that he had gotten all the crying out of his system. But, he still didn't feel ready enough to leave the safety of the deserted tunnel he disappeared down a few short hours ago; he was more then content to stay huddled in his torch lit corner away from Narnian –– and Caspian's— eyes, or worse, his sibling's.

Edmond knew he wanted to be left alone, his little brother had followed his steps closely ever since the spat with Caspian, and only left him alone when ordered. But, as Peter set off towards his hiding place he could still see Edmond lingering around the tunnel's entrance waiting for him. The gesture humbled the High King slightly, and even though the older brother knew he should be grateful for the comfort, he dismissed it. For once, he figured he had a right to sit in the dark and sulk, if only for a few minutes.

A part of him wondered if Caspian was doing the same, while the other part or him hoped the idiot was balling his eyes out too, then he wouldn't feel so bad about doing it. After all, it was all his fault...

Peter groaned and lightly thumped his head against his knee. That was a lie and the adult part of him knew it. True, Caspian blew their cover but he still had plenty of time to call the attack off and he didn't. The realization brought more tears to his eyes and with another groan; Peter curled his legs closer to his chest.

The torch anchored on the wall above his head suddenly extinguished and Peter quickly snapped his head up, his blue eyes franticly scanning the growing darkness around him. He couldn't feel a breeze in the tunnel and only a severe gust of wind could blow out a torch that quickly.

Peter slowly pushed himself to his feet and his fingers instantly wound around the handle of his sword. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and a cold shiver crawled its way down his back; something was in the tunnel with him, he knew it. He listened carefully with his ears, but he couldn't hear a single sound other then his own breathing, no wind, no footsteps, nothing.

Wearily, Peter's fingers unwound from the sword's hilt and fell to his side. Maybe he was over reacting; it could have been that the flame on the torch was exhausted. After all, these tunnels were safe, the Narnians patrolled its vast length regularly, so the odds of something or someone from the outside entering the tomb were slim at best. These tunnels were safe.

A quick moment later the torch above his head re-lit, casting a heavy golden glow upon the tunnel's thick walls. A man stood an arm length away from him and Peter couldn't help gasping from the sight and taking a step back.

His eyes never left the man in front of him as he carefully took in the stranger's appearance. He was tall with much wider shoulders then Peter had, and while the stranger seemed to look human, his eyes gave the impression he was something else entirely. His left eye was a deep, honey brown color while his right eye – Peter couldn't help another deep swallow as he looked at it- was a rich dark blue and it's pupil wasn't circler like a human's but rather a tear shaped slit that looked cat-like. His ears had tipped edges to them with long strands of dark, amber hair pushed back behind them neatly.

"Who- who are you?" The young King asked, his fingers once again curling around the sword's handle.

The figure – Peter couldn't bring himself to admit it was human from its looks alone- blinked and used a long, finger-nailed hand to brush a dark strand of hair over his shoulder.

"I've had many names through out the course of history, Son of Adam, but you may call me Ambrose."

A deep, blue glint flashed in his right eye and Peter felt a cold sensation touch his body. It traveled down his neck, and to his right arm, making his fingers involuntarily loosen around the sword's hand and drop to rest motionlessly at his side.

(What's…going…on?)

The chill then spread through out his entire body, making him shutter and back towards the wall. Ambrose stepped closer to him, a cold grin curving his pale lips.

"Feeling _strange_ young King?"

Peter gasped no louder then a whisper when he felt one of Ambrose's hands touch his chest softly. The touch warmed his cold body immensely, and without his consent, Peter felt his body respond heavily to it. Ambrose didn't seem at all surprised by this. His long fingers traced along Peter's chest slowly, drawing deep, shuttering shivers from the teen before moving downwards and settling on the thick leather straps that secured the teen's sword. With quick movements, the fingers unclasped the buckle and Peter's eyes widened when he heard the sound of his sword falling heavily against the hard, stone floor.

"Stop, what are—?"

Suddenly realizing that this man- thing- was disarming him, Peter attempted to struggle away from him, but Ambrose's long fingers curled tightly around his neck before he could move.

"Now, now, little one, be calm."

Ambrose's blue eye flashed once again, the glint was momentarily reflected back in the boy's eyes for Ambrose to see before Peter felt his strength leave him as the coldness in his body deepened. It occurred to him the heavy chill in his body was brought on by the stranger's eye; it held some magical force to it. Ambrose seemed to sense his realization and another cold grin came to surface.

"It's been so long since a Son of Adam has walked these halls…and now you're mine."

Ambrose's mouth pressed against Peters roughly, making the young King cry out in surprise, but his scream was fully muffled and soon grew silent in the vast length of the stone tunnel.

--

Love it? Hate it? Whatever, just please give me some feedback please.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you Queensclaw for being my first reviewer

**Chapter 2**

_One week later…_

Caspian felt his eyes lightly close as the soft, evening breeze wafted up towards the castle from the forest. Dusk was fast approaching, thus ending his first week as King. With a sigh, the young King's lowly opened his eyes and gazed at the darkening landscape displayed before him underneath the comfort of his balcony.

He was King. He was the King of Narnia. Less then a week ago, he was the Prince who fled into the forest with Miraz's guard close behind him, and now those same guards were sworn to protect and serve him as King. He was more than grateful when they did so, even if he was a little weary of them. Especially since Miraz's former General was still in command.

Glozelle's decision to stay behind while most of Miraz's army and supporters left through the veil that Aslan had created had surprised the young King greatly. He wouldn't have blamed the General if he had left, but hearing Glozelle declare that he would rather stay behind left him both afraid and relieved. Glozelle had severed Miraz so loyally and so fiercely over the years. The tales of the General's many campaigns and victories in Miraz's honor were widely told throughout the castle as Caspian grew up, but to the young King himself, Glozelle's images were that of the warm and fatherly soldier who first taught him how to hold a sword properly - against Miraz's wishes. If it wasn't for the General's teachings he wouldn't have survived against Miraz's forces.

However, a part of his mind refused to forget that Glozelle had, in the end, betrayed his uncle and lead the Telmarines against the Narnians along with Lord Sopespian. Both men had risked treason for Miraz's removal and for the war. And, while Lord Sopespian had perished during the war and was laid to rest, Glozelle still had to live with being labeled as a traitor among the Telmar court.

A chill suddenly nipped at his skin, and with a calm sigh, Caspian turned and retreated into his bedchamber, closing the balcony door after himself. Glozelle may have been branded as a traitor but he couldn't easily forget the General's hesitance to raise his blade against him when they crossed paths on the battlefield, and a part of the King somehow knew that the General never would have. Any other memories of the battle were still a blur to him; the fighting had all happened so fast and was over very quickly in his eyes.

His eyes glanced around his new room, the King's chambers that used to belong to first his father and then his uncle later, and now it belonged to him. The chill brushed against his skin even more as he neared his bed, causing him to shiver despite the warmth his thick robe offered. Caspian glanced at the fire place, making sure the flames were crackling brightly in their enclosure before making his way towards the plush bed in the center of the room.

As he pulled the bedding aside, the light in the room dimmed slightly and Caspian glanced over his shoulder at the fireplace again. The flames had been extinguished, leaving the logs still glowing red and smoking heavily. Confused, Caspian walked to the fireplace and examined the logs, prodding them gently with the iron poker. They relit a moment later, the flames suddenly bursting forth from the logs as if they had been burning all along with no dimness to their glow.

Feeling more confused then before, Caspian merely blinked and turned back towards the bed. As he did so, he froze when his eyes saw a figure standing near the foot of his bed. He recognized the man immediately and the chill settled into his skin with a darker force.

"Ambrose…"

The air vanished from his lungs the moment he uttered the name. He knew instantly where the sudden chill in the room had come from.

"I'm honored you remember me, my King." The man spoke; his voice holding a smooth edge to it that caused Caspian's skin to crawl.

Caspian swallowed deeply and slowly stood up, positioning himself as close as he could to the fire place.

"What are you doing here? How—"

His was cut off by the man's laughter.

"Your castle is easy enough for me to enter without expending much effort. A child could enter and leave without your guards seeing."

Caspian eyed him darkly. Remaining as still as he possibly could, Caspian reached for the iron poker once again, carefully concealing the rod behind his back and out of Ambrose's sight. This man had easily overpowered King Peter, he wasn't about to take chances.

"What is it that you want?" The King of Narnia asked, his fingers curling around the make-shift weapon behind his back.

Ambrose's eyes silently roamed up and down the young King's form, making the youth shiver mentally. Caspian's gaze was locked on the man's right eye, the pale blue one, knowing full well what power it held.

With a deep sigh, Ambrose took a step closer. "You cost me something precious young one. Did you honestly think I would forget about that?"

Caspian's body went numb, his fingers still clutched tightly around the rod. Those words stirred up dark memories in his head. He remembered walking through the tunnels in Aslan's How and seeing this man in the darkness, seeing his hands on King Peter.

"_Feels good doesn't it son of Adam?"_

"_More - more please…so cold."_

Ambrose took another step closer and another. Within moments, he was standing an arms-length away from the King of Narnia.

"You will do in Peter's stead."

Those words seemed to set off a reflex because Caspian swung the rod out from behind his back, aiming at the man in front of him. Ambrose side-stepped it without much effort and grabbed his arm. The youth cried out as his arm was painfully twisted behind his back, forcing his fingers to loosen around the weapon until it fell to the floor with a metal clang.

"Such fire…" Ambrose purred against his neck, his voice causing goose bumps to form on the King's skin. "I heard the Telmarines were fighters, but I never would've guessed they were this spirited."

Caspian cried out once again, hoping the guards patrolling his level would hear him. Ambrose seemed to sense his intention because his hand pressed over the King's mouth a quick moment later.

"You are mine now, young one…and I plan to enjoy you."

Ambrose's statement ended with a quick swipe of his tongue against the King's neck, relishing at the increase of the boy's pulse. As much as he wanted to enjoy the boy's fighting, he didn't have the strength to deal with any unwanted intruders the boy might attract or call out for.

With one powerful move, Ambrose grabbed the young King's shoulder and forcibly spun him around until they were face to face. Caspian tried to turn his head away, knowing full well what the man was trying to do, but before he could do so, Ambrose grabbed his chin with his strong fingers and forced their eyes to meet.

A deep glow settled inside of Ambrose's right eye as the blue orb bore into Caspian's dark brown ones. The King suddenly felt more cold than he'd ever felt in his life. His body felt like he'd fallen into the river during the peak of winter, despite the warmth that lingered inside of his chambers. His resolve weakened greatly, and Ambrose sighed happily when the warm body in his arms fell limp as it tried to fend off the coldness that was now taking over. With a dark, yet satisfied, grin, Ambrose gently eased the Telmarine to the bed. Through the thick haze inside his head, Caspian registered his back hitting his bed heavily. With a groan, he tried to right himself and roll to his side but he found himself suddenly pinned under a heavy weight.

Warmth slowly started seeping into his body as the weight settled on top of him, reaching him through the intense cold. It then dawned on him that the weight – and the warmth - was none other than Ambrose's own body. Repulsed, Caspian pushed the man's body off of him weakly, acknowledging that Ambrose allowed it because he offered no resistance.

"No…"

Ambrose leered down at him like a hawk, his eyes holding an amused glint.

"If you fight me, my King, you will never be warm." He purred darkly, leaning close to the King's ear and nipping at it lightly with his teeth. "I'm sure the cold is unbearable."

Caspian shivered and turned his head away, refusing to look him in the eye. Ambrose merely grinned and slid a hand down Caspian's clothed chest, silently admiring the firmness he felt. The boy may be young, but he was indeed impressive. His fingers slid in-between the folds of the boy's robe, pleased when he felt soft, naked skin underneath. Caspian tried as hard as he could to stop his gasps from leaving his mouth but it grew increasingly difficult as the warmth from Ambrose's fingers was circling through his entire body, keeping the harsh cold at bay.

"Feels delightful, doesn't it, young one?"

Caspian's reply was a choked moan, his body silently willing for the man to keep touching him. He wanted – needed - the warmth the stranger's hands were giving him. He wanted anything to keep the cold in his body at bay. Anything…

Ambrose gazed down at the writhing boy under him, thoroughly enjoying the struggling. Oh, he was going to enjoy this boy that was for sure. Caspian may have cost him the first boy he set his eyes on but that hardly mattered now; he doubted the blond would've been more pleasing then the young Telmarine would be.

His fingers slipped even further down the boy's body and Caspian was helpless to do anything but moan softly, welcoming the warmth circling inside of his body from the touches. The single tear that fell from the youth's eyes shortly afterwards was a welcome sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Lord Caspian." Glozelle called, lightly pounding his gauntlet against the large wooden door in front of him.

Silence accompanied his knock, causing the General to sigh softly and raise his hand again. Like his first knock, the second went unanswered, leaving him no choice but to quietly pull the door's latch and push it open. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't dare intrude in this matter, but the council's growing concern over the King's lateness compelled him. Today was the first council gathering Caspian would attend as the new King of Narnia and the Lords had gathered well over an hour ago.

He'd been inside of the King's chambers many times before, during Miraz's reign, but this was his first entry under Caspian's. After taking a handful of steps into the room, he instantly noticed a handful of drastic changes, the heavy dark draperies that Miraz enjoyed where replaced at Caspian's insistence by softer shades of green and blues. The colors drew more light into the room, illuminating the stone walls and floor and helped give the room a more inviting feeling.

Glozelle's eyes scanned the length of the room, until they glimpsed the King still sound asleep in his bed. The General cocked an eyebrow; it was well into the day and Caspian was still sleeping? He closed the door behind him and walked towards the bed, his eyes never leaving the sleeping King. As he drew near the side of the bed, Glozelle felt himself come to a halt. Caspian was curled on his side in the bed's center, eyes lightly closed. The thick bedding was bundled around his bare waist - even with the small distance between them, it was easy enough for Glozelle to notice the King was completely nude - but his eyes were drawn to several red blotches across Caspian's chest and shoulders.

However, he resisted the urge to glance at them closer, and placed his hand on Caspian's shoulder and shook lightly.

"My King."

Caspian moaned softly, and when Glozelle shook his shoulder once more, his eyes slowly opened. "Mmmh…"

"My King?"

Caspian's brown eyes blinked and gazed up at him sleepily. "W-what is it?"

The King's voice was hoarse and strained, almost as if he'd been yelling for hours on end.

"The council has gathered, my King; they've been waiting for you."

It took a moment for the General's words to register in his head, but when they did, Caspian sat upright with a sharp gasp.

"They're in session?"

Glozelle nodded. "Yes, my Lord, they've been waiting for almost an hour."

With a sleepy groan, Caspian inched to the edge of the bed. The bedding, however, didn't move with him, and the youth failed to notice as he swung a leg to the floor. Unfortunately, Glozelle noticed and felt his eyes drawn to the bronze skin that was suddenly presented to him. His eyebrow once again raised itself when he caught site of more red marks, and even a few dark colored bruises, adorning Caspian's hips and upper thighs. The small, red marks looked almost like they were caused by teeth, and indeed, a few had tooth impressions embedded in their centers, but the black and blue areas were in the disturbing shape of finger tips.

Another soft gasp moved the General's attention away from the King's lower areas, as Caspian suddenly realized his nakedness and quickly covered himself, his face flushing a bright crimson. Glozelle mentally shook himself and turned away. The sounds of Caspian climbing out of the bed and wrestling with cloth reached his ears, but he kept his back to the King, already feeling ashamed for his staring. He turned when Caspian cleared his throat softly, relief spreading through him when he saw that Caspian had a thick robe wrapped around himself. His face still held a heavy flush, and the General suspected it wasn't fully from embarrassment.

"I will be along in a few moments."

"Are you ill, my King?"

Caspian wrapped his arms around his torso and shook his head shakily. "I am well, Glozelle. Wait for me outside my chambers."

Glozelle straightened and nodded at the order, turning swiftly on his heel. Caspian's eyes followed him out of the room until the door closed, sounding the General's exit. Once left alone, the young Telmarine felt himself fall heavily back onto his bed. His hands nervously opened the front of his robe and he gazed down at the red marks littered across his chest.

It wasn't a dream; his eyes were staring down at the proof written across his skin.

_No…_

A cry started making its way up the King's throat and Caspian bit into his fingers in order to keep it silent.

Glozelle nervously fingered the hilt of his sheathed sword as he waited for Caspian to emerge from his chambers. Behind the door, he could hear the sounds of the King moving about, but the General forced his curiosity to the back of his mind. It was hard battle since his mind was still groping for answers about the marks he witnessed on the King's body, and though he tried to dismiss the thoughts, he wasn't fully able to.

Caspian had gone to his chambers alone the previous night; he himself had accompanied the King to this level and parted ways when the King entered his chambers for the night while he patrolled the surrounding levels of the castle, as he did every night since he was appointed General by Miraz.

_Miraz…_

Glozelle felt his shoulders coil tight, and he was forced to lean against the stone wall behind him to center himself. Miraz was a tyrant and a man without a single sense of honor, but he served him never the less, and the General damned himself every day for it. Miraz had given him his rank and privileges, more then enough reason for Glozelle to serve him loyally, but hardly enough for the Lord to earn his respect. He respected Caspian IX though, the former King was the reason he enlisted in the guard many years ago only to find himself placed in Miraz's private forces.

Most of the memories he carried from those times were anything but pleasant, and the General pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. None of that mattered now, he finally had a chance to redeem himself and his honor under the command of new King, and while Caspian was young and had been Narnia's King for little more then a week, he was more suited to the role then his uncle had been, with his compassion and want of peace. The boy was the first decent King Glozelle had severed under and he would gladly protect him with his life.

The sound of the door to the King's chambers opening echoed loudly in the empty hall and Glozelle pushed himself away from the wall. Caspian was dressed in a rich blue tunic adorned with gold thread near the neck and sleeves, and dark pants. His choice for clothing seemed to give his eyes a deep, honey colored glow but it did also serve another purpose in the General's eyes, it helped transform Caspian into the noble King he was born to be.

"I am ready."

Glozelle nodded and started down the hall, Caspian falling into step beside him. The two Telmarines descended into the ground levels of the stone castle. Caspian eyed the ground nervously during their walk, and Glozelle once again found himself watching the King. The boy's face was blank and pale, but worry was clearly present in his eyes and it only intensified as the neared the council chambers.

Soon, the two found themselves standing outside of the large chamber doors.

"We are here, my King." Glozelle announced, turning towards the youth.

Caspian nodded and eyed the door nervously. The General watched silently for a moment, his chest tightening from the sight. How easily many people – and he himself was guilty of it, many times- forgot Caspian's age. Even though the young Telmarine was King, he was still a boy and as he gazed fearfully at the door and dreaded what was behind it, Glozelle's eyes saw the small child who kept dropping his sword during his lessons. The boy who'd gazed at him with awe when the General spared with his solders and always found a way to separate them from their weapons without much effort.

Glozelle smiled a bit at the memory of the curious little boy and placed a comforting hand on the King's shoulder.

"Do not be nervous. You will do fine."

Caspian turned his head away from the door and met his gaze. "But what if they don't approve of the Narnians, or if they want—"

"You are their King; they will accept your actions one way or another." Glozelle replied, keeping his voice deep and fatherly, the same way he spoke when Caspian was younger. "Now, stand up straight and keep your head high. You look down to no one."

Caspian straightened his shoulders nervously and took a few deep breaths. Glozelle watched proudly, even though it was obvious the King was still nervous.

"Are you going in with me?" Caspian asked, his voice was even, but there was still a faltering edge to it.

"I can only enter the chambers under request, my King."

Caspian pondered the General's words for a moment.

"Will you accompany me?"

Glozelle nodded, not at all surprised by the King's request. "As you wish, my King."

Caspian breathed a sigh of relief and after swallowing the lump inside his throat, walked forward, and pushed the heavy wooden door open. Silence was heavy inside the room and Caspian wasn't even halfway into the chamber before a handful of eyes were upon him. What was left of the council sat in their respective chairs, each turned in the new King's direction. The men straightened in their chairs as the door was pushed open once again and closed swiftly, revealing Glozelle standing protectively behind the new King.

Caspian took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "My apologies for being late, I was—"

"The King was detained by other matters." Glozelle finished, his dark eyes meeting the gaze of each of the council members.

Each of the men registered his glare with a controlled look of their own, but their gaze's hardly rattled Glozelle's state of mind. He'd been in this council chamber many, many times under Miraz's command and learned the tricks each man used to manipulate the other members for their own gain. And, while a good number of the Lords were peaceful and never used their methods, Glozelle knew the others relished the chance of having a new, _young_ King who would be easy for them to control. He'd gladly unsheathe his sword at the first one who dared to corrupt Caspian, restraint and his rank be damned.

Weary of the General's stern glare, the council member closest to the door rose from his chair.

"It's quite alright, my King, may we please begin?"

"Yes." Caspian nodded and made his way towards the chairs lined on the opposite end of the room.

The Lords started quietly talking amongst themselves as Caspian made his way to his chair. He'd only been inside of this room once, and that was upon his uncle's insistence when he was a small boy. The room hadn't changed much as far as his memory was concerned. The walls were still adorned by the various flags and banners of the surrounding lands. The wondrous chandelier still hung in the center of the room and Caspian's eyes were drawn upwards as he passed under it.

Glozelle fell into step beside him silently, ignoring the looks directed at his back from the council Lords. He watched the King out of the corner of his eye and upon seeing that Caspian was slowing his pace, signaling distraction, he lightly thumped the tail of his sword's scabbard against the back of the King's knee. It was enough to break Caspian out of his daze and the King quickly composed himself and made his way towards the chair reserved for the current King.

Caspian sat down quietly and Glozelle moved to the shadows on the chair's left side. The young King cleared his throat nervously.

"Shall we begin?"

The Lords nodded in their agreement and the one closest to Caspian stood and bowed before speaking. His request was addressed to the other Lords, so Caspian remained silent, relishing the chance to compose himself. His head was hazy and had felt that way since Glozelle had awakened him. There were also sharp pains radiating through his body that he used all of his willpower to ignore.

"_Now, this will hurt, young one…relax more, there's a good boy."_

_He cried out as a sharp, stinging pain shot through his lower body. He didn't need to glance over his should to realize the man had penetrated him. His head fell against the bedding with a pained whimper, his eyes squeezing closed._

Caspian closed his eyes briefly, trying to halt the memories that were starting to fill his mind.

_He was encircled with warmth, but his body still felt cold down to its very core. Seeking more heat, he arched up against the warm body pressed heavily against his back, a slight groan easing from his mouth. The man started moving inside of him, it was painful at first but the pain soon dulled and was replaced by warmth and pleasure… pleasure the young King had not felt since the night in Asland's How._

"_So responsive, am I your first?"_

_The voice was smooth, raising goosebumps against his skin when it spoke._

"Lord Caspian, what's your solution?"

Caspian blinked and lightly shook his head. Several of the council Lords where staring at him eagerly and he had not heard one word they had said. With a nervous swallow he did the first thing he could think of, he turned his head towards Glozelle. His prayed the General could read the plea for assistance in his eyes.

"All roads and trading routs leading through and nearby the woods have been disbanded by the King's orders." Glozelle stated loudly, drawing the council's attention upon himself. "My men will provide you with maps detailing alternate routes upon your departure in the morning."

The General's voice held its normal authority and none of the Lords challenged it. Caspian sighed in relief and straightened in his chair, aware that Glozelle was watching him closely.

"What of the Narnians, my King?"

Caspian looked over at the Lord who spoke. "What of them?"

The Lord humbled slightly when all eyes in the chamber moved on him. He was young, looking only a small handful of summers older then Caspian himself.

"What are their restrictions?"

"Restrictions?" Caspian raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, what times are they allowed to enter the city? What roads will they be allowed to use?"

Caspian blinked once again, trying to process what the man was asking.

"I'm afraid I do not understand your question?"

"Well, my King, you can't honestly expect us to associate with those _creatures_-"

Caspian tensed and tightened his fingers around the arm of his chair. He'd feared the Lords would react this way.

"They are to be treated no differently then the rest of the Telmarines, they will have the same freedom and rights as us."

His statement caused another one of the Lords to speak up. "Lord Caspian, you cannot be serious."

Anger spread through the King's body, and he stood from his chair, ignoring the pain that emitted from his lower body. "I am indeed serious. Those creatures are my friends and the reason I am King."

"With assistance from Lord Sopespian and your new General as well, _my King_." The younger council member spoke up once again, eyeing both Caspian and Glozelle with distain.

A heavily silence formed in the large room, both Caspian and the outspoken Lord glaring at the other while the room's other inhabitants were torn between observing the two. Before either youth could utter another argument, Glozelle strolled forward. His face was composed, but his eyes were just as enraged as Caspian's.

"Lord Carilles, you will leave the council chamber respectfully of your own free will." The General commanded in an even voice, sliding his sword partly out of its sheath. "Or I will escort you out."

The Lord narrowed his eyes at the General's threat and rose from his chair. His eyes continued to bore into Caspian's face as he turned on his heel, leaving the chamber without a single word. The door slammed loudly as he departed and Caspian couldn't help his small flinch at the sound.

"If any other Lord shares his views, you are more than welcome to leave."

Much to the young King's relief, none of the remaining Lords left their chairs, and he sank back down into his heavily. The silence was still present in the chambers, however, and remained for a long passage of time before one of the Lords decided to address another issue. Caspian only spoke and replied when he was needed to but otherwise remained passive.

* * *

"You did well today, my King."

"You have never been a good liar, professor." Caspian mumbled, idly playing with a tiny trinket resting on the professor's cluttered desk.

"Very true, my King." Cornelius smiled at him from across the room briefly as he pulled a few books from his cluttered shelves.

Caspian continued to fiddle with the small trinket, not replying to the statement. Cornelius carried his armful of books to his desk, taking the seat across from the King. His sharp eyes held the distressed teen in their gaze for a moment before the professor sighed warmly.

"The first few meetings are always difficult for a new King. Do not judge yourself too harshly."

Caspian kept his head lowered, his dark eyes hidden from the professor under his bangs.

"They do not accept the Narnians."

Cornelius nodded slightly. "I suspected as much. The Telmarines have always viewed themselves superior to the Narnians. One can't expect them to change their beliefs over the course of a week."

The King raised his head slightly, still keeping his eyes lowered.

"They do not accept me as their king."

"But alas, you are their King, nevertheless." The professor replied, opening the book closest to him. "Respect can be gained in two ways. You can earn it, or like your uncle, you can demand it through fear."

Finally the king meet his gaze, obviously growing bored of the small metal item he'd spent the better part of an hour poking at. "What are you reading?"

"It's an old journal my former mentor left in my care long before you were born. Like myself, he had dwarfish blood, and wished to explore as much of the land as he could."

Caspian blinked, obviously bored. "Oh."

At this, the older man chuckled. "My King, you are free to leave my study whenever you desire. You are no longer a boy."

"I enjoy spending time in here professor."

"I'm humbled you feel that way, my King." Cornelius hummed happily, turning a page in his book. "However it is getting rather late. It would be best if you were to turn in for the evening. You must face the council once more in the morning."

Caspian's shoulders seemed to shrink from the statement, causing one of the older man's eyebrows to rise questionably.

"Is something wrong, my King?"

"No." Caspian hastily assured, but his unease was still present in his voice. "I…I would just like to remain here for a few moments longer."

Cornelius wearily closed his book. "You are welcome to stay in my library as long as you wish, my King."

"Thank you." Caspian whispered, hiding behind his bangs once again.

He remained in the professor's chambers for a few more hours before Cornelius retired to his chambers for the night, leaving Caspian no choice but to climb the levels to his own chambers. When he opened the door the first thing he noticed was Ambrose waiting in the darkness for him.


End file.
